Thursday, June 21, 2012

A Day of Tumult and Triumph: Wasim, Waqar, and the Lords of Lord’s

At precisely 6:40 on a Sunday evening, Wasim Akram leaned into a cover drive against Ian Salisbury, sending the ball racing to the boundary and sealing one of the most pulsating victories in Pakistan’s Test history. That stroke was more than just the winning shot—it was the exclamation mark on a day of cricket that had swung like a pendulum, veering from certainty to chaos, before settling in Pakistan’s favour most dramatically. 

The atmosphere at Lord’s was electric, charged with the kind of intensity that only Test cricket can produce. Seventeen wickets had fallen in the day, and the contest had played out with the breathless urgency of a one-day final. For Pakistan, the day had promised an inevitable triumph, only to threaten an implosion, before their two great fast-bowling titans—Wasim and Waqar—transcended their usual roles and held firm with the bat, scripting a partnership that defied England’s desperate but depleted attack. Their resilience crushed the hopes of an English side that, for a fleeting moment, had glimpsed the unlikeliest of victories. 

This match was not merely a contest of skill but a trial of nerve, a battle waged as much in the mind as with bat and ball. The Test and County Cricket Board (TCCB) had been spared an administrative controversy that could have marred the occasion—had Salisbury bowled a maiden over, play would have been halted for the day, resuming Monday morning with England needing two wickets and Pakistan requiring a solitary run. A resolution by technicality would have been an injustice to the feverish struggle of the preceding hours. Fate, however, ensured that the game reached its rightful conclusion then and there, preserving the sanctity of what had been an unforgettable day’s play. 

The Resurrection of Wasim and Waqar 

Perhaps the most poetic aspect of Pakistan’s triumph was the resurgence of Wasim and Waqar. Only weeks earlier, doubts had clouded their fitness—Wasim had missed the first Test due to shin trouble, while Waqar’s return at Edgbaston had seemed tentative after a stress fracture had sidelined him for the World Cup. Yet, in this match, the duo roared back to form, slicing through England’s batting with 13 wickets between them before standing resolute with the bat when all seemed lost. 

Wasim’s return had been signalled with a ferocious display in county matches before the Test, where he claimed 16 wickets against Nottinghamshire and Northamptonshire. His recall, at the expense of Ata-ur-Rehman, proved to be the masterstroke that shaped the outcome. England, by contrast, made only one change, bringing in Devon Malcolm for Mark Ramprakash—an adjustment that did little to inject the variety their attack sorely lacked. 

England’s Early Command and Swift Decline 

The Test began with England asserting control. Graham Gooch, in vintage form, combined with Alec Stewart to put on 123 for the first wicket at an exhilarating tempo. Overcast skies and a swinging ball failed to trouble the English openers—until Wasim Akram intervened. Gooch, having surpassed Wally Hammond’s Test aggregate of 7,249 runs, fell when an inside edge cannoned onto his stumps. This dismissal marked the turning point, and the English innings quickly unravelled. 

Graeme Hick’s ambitious pull to mid-on signalled a lack of discipline, and soon the wickets tumbled. Waqar, sensing weakness, produced a spell of devastating ferocity, claiming four wickets for 17 runs in just 40 deliveries. England’s recklessness played into his hands, their batsmen gifting away their wickets with a mixture of impatience and poor shot selection. Only wicketkeeper Jack Russell offered meaningful resistance, but by then, the damage had been done. 

The Tumult of Pakistan’s First Innings 

Pakistan’s response was shaped by interruptions, as Friday’s afternoon sessions were washed out by rain. Ian Botham, plagued by a groin strain, bowled sparingly but still managed to impact the game. A tumbling slip catch removed Javed Miandad, giving leg-spinner Ian Salisbury his maiden Test wicket. Botham then pulled off another stunning grab to dismiss Moin Khan, equaling M.C. Cowdrey’s England record of 120 Test catches. 

Yet, the real drama came with the ball in Devon Malcolm’s hands. Pakistan were cruising at 228 for three when Malcolm produced a fiery burst, removing Asif Mujtaba, Inzamam-ul-Haq, and Salim Malik in a span of 13 balls. England had fought back, restricting Pakistan’s lead to a modest 38. 

Stewart’s Lone Stand and England’s Final Collapse 

England’s second innings was an exercise in self-destruction. While night-watchman Salisbury provided stubborn resistance, Mushtaq Ahmed dismantled the middle order, claiming three crucial wickets in quick succession. Once again, Wasim Akram provided the finishing touch, mopping up the tail in clinical fashion. The one exception to England’s failings was Alec Stewart, who stood defiant and became only the sixth English batsman to carry his bat through a Test innings—the first to do so at Lord’s. It was an innings of remarkable maturity, reinforcing his growing stature as England’s backbone. 

The Climax: A Battle of Attrition 

And then came the final act—a chase of 138 that should have been routine but instead unravelled into a nerve-wracking thriller. Pakistan stumbled immediately, collapsing to 18 for three as Chris Lewis extracted edges from Ramiz Raja, Mujtaba, and Miandad, all dismissed for ducks. When Salisbury removed Malik with his fifth delivery, England smelled an improbable victory. 

But fate had other ideas. Injuries hamstrung England’s attack—Botham, already struggling, was further hindered by a toe injury; Philip DeFreitas pulled his groin and could not bowl. Gooch, watching his side’s advantage slip, had no fresh weapons to summon. 

Salisbury fought valiantly, claiming crucial wickets and a combination of his leg-spin and tight seam bowling reduced Pakistan to 95 for eight. England were on the brink. But the two men who had tormented them with the ball now took centre stage with the bat. Wasim and Waqar, famed for their destruction, turned saviours. 

With every passing run, the tension mounted. The English crowd, raucous with expectation, grew silent. Lewis, having bowled the spell of his life earlier in the day, was exhausted. England had thrown every last ounce of fight into the battle, but they had nothing left to give. 

And then, in one elegant stroke, it was over. Wasim’s cover drive was more than just the winning shot—it was a release of tension, a proclamation of triumph. The Pakistan team, unable to contain themselves, stormed onto the field in unbridled jubilation. 

Aftermath: A Test That Defined the Era 

For England, the heartbreak was compounded by a financial penalty—their slow over rate resulted in fines, though referee Bob Cowper showed leniency. The corporate world, too, took note. Cornhill Insurance extended their sponsorship of English cricket, paying £3.2 million for 1993 and 1994. Yet no amount of sponsorship money could buy a spectacle as rich and dramatic as what had unfolded that Sunday at Lord’s. 

Rarely does a single day of cricket encapsulate the magic, agony, and relentless unpredictability of the sport. This was not just a Test match; it was a battle etched into cricketing folklore, a testament to the unyielding spirit of competition, where heroes emerged, odds defied, and the weight of history pressed down on every ball. And at the heart of it all, Wasim and Waqar stood, their legacies forever entwined with the echoes of that unforgettable evening at Lord’s.

Thank You

Faisal Caesar